FEARS

~14~

The party was really fun. They played different games like two truths and a lie, how you met the birthday man, charades. We even played never have I ever! It was funny to see middle aged people playing such. Now they were playing wine pong, just like beer pong but you know, with wine.

I was happy seeing my dad carefree and jovial. I smiled at the sight. I didn't want to partake in the beer pong so I sat and munched on a cracker dipped in cheese while sipping wine of course. I'm not drunk or tipsy or anything. I can actually handle my wine well. Most of the guests were a bit tipsy, but none drnuk.

That asshole sat in a corner watching everyone. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He didn't partake in any of the games. Just sat and sipped his wine.

Whenever I wasn't busy with the games, stuffing my face or smiling at the guests and my dad, I would shoot daggers his way. That's how it has been throughout the night. I'll glare at him and curse him under my breath, but when he looks my way, I avert my stare immediately.

You were also ogling him.

Okay, yes. I admit he looked hot tonight, but that will not dim my hate for him. Reasons I hate Dashiell Jacobs.

1. For treating women like trash.
2. For threatening me.
3. For threatening my patients.
4. For almost ruining my career.
5. For asking for sex in a really rude way.
6. For insulting me.
7. For making me give up on him.
8.For showing up shabbily dressed for my dad's party.
9. For stealing my vase.
10. For embarrassing me in front of my dad.
11. For his damn existence!

My grip on my glass tightened as I glared. He looked my way and I didn't have time to look away. He caught my stare and smirked. I don't know why but I felt my face heating up.

I just remember another reason. I fucking hated him for making me blush! I don't blush. I never! I turned away from him in a flash and blew out air from my mouth to kill the blush.

I recalled the way he made me a blushing mess, earlier tonight, in front of my dad. I was furious.

I was conversing peacefully with my dad during one of the games when asshole walked up to us. I glared at him. What does he want?

"Sweetheart, take that glare off your face. It was just a vase," dad consoled.

I huffed and looked away.

"Happy birthday, Mr Evans. Here's a little gift from me. Thanks for inviting me to your party," he said in a really reaally polite tone.

I whipped my head to him and gaped. Dashiell?! Being polite?!!! Why I never!!

My dad shook his hand and patted him on the back while taking the small gift wrapped really well.

They whispered somethings to themselves and I stood there like a fool. He didn't even spare me a glance. I watched as his lips moved up slowly. Not to smirk, but to smile. To smile!! A small smile, but still a smile!

Now that made me gasp. Their heads whipped towards me. I guess my gasp was really loud. The smile dropped from his face and his lips remained nuetral.

"Sweetheart! I forgot you were here," my dad addressed.

Now I gaped up at my dad. He never forgets me! I narrowed my eyes and he gave an apologetic glance and pulled me to his side.

"Since you have met my friend, Chris, I assume you've met his son," he started.

My glare was back.

"No. No I haven't. I've never met someone like this. I don't even want to-"

He cut of my rambling with a squeeze on my shoulder.